After Bloodshed
by lydiamaartin
Summary: Five stories of ten heroes taking place two weeks after the last innocent blood has been shed. Stories of hope and friendship and starting over, the stories of heroes. - post Final Battle


**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize, as per usual.

* * *

**It had been two weeks since he'd talked to her. Two weeks since he'd won the war, two weeks since Voldemort died, and two weeks since she'd talked to him.

And she couldn't stand it. She also couldn't stand the fact that she couldn't stand it, because honestly, she had survived a full year without even any knowledge of his wherabouts, and in the midst of her brother's death and funeral arrangements and award ceremonies and cleaning up the school, her ex-boyfriend should be the least of her worries.

Yet, he wasn't. That was probably why she jumped up and nearly tackle-hugged the life out of Harry Potter when he finally approached her one breezy day near the Great Lake, a hesitant and somewhat scared look on his face, as if he was afraid she was going to Bat-Bogey him.

(Truth be told, it had crossed her mind to do just that, but she decided against it, partly because he looked so adorable when he was nervous, and partly because she had missed him more than she let on).

"Hi," he said, looking dizzy when she released him. "How are you?"

Ginny took the wonderful opportunity to smack him. "What kind of a question is _that_?" she demanded, all her righteous anger from the past year flooding back.

Harry winced. "Um, sorry. Just…y'know, making conversation."

She sighed, wishing she weren't crazy in love with him so she could be properly mad. "It's all right. What are you doing here?"

"Taking a break." Harry offered her a half-smile. "I've been wanting to talk to you in private, but you were never alone."

Ginny gestured around them at the mostly-empty grounds. There were a few stragglers here and there, but none within hearing distance. "Well, I'm alone now. What did you want to talk about?"

Harry shrugged, sitting down cross-legged on the dewy grass. "Life. Death. Us."

"Hm," she said, mimicking his pose. "All right, then. You wanna go through that list one by one?"

She hid a smile when he looked flustered. "No, I just…I wanted…that's not what—oh, forget it."

Harry angled his head. Ginny gasped, then sighed against his lips as he kissed her, slowly and sweetly, as if they had all the time in the world. Stars and fireworks and all the cliché romantic imagery in the world seemed to dance before her eyes, and her stomach felt like a breeding ground for dancing butterflies. This was ten times better than their first kiss, because now, Voldemort (and the rest of the Gryffindor House) wasn't there to ruin the moment. It was just them, two teenagers hopelessly in love, making out on the shore of a not-so-picturesque lake.

"So, um," she began when they parted, her voice breathless. "What were you saying?"

Harry smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. "I was saying that I am totally and completely in love with you, Ginny Weasley. What were _you_ saying?"

It was rather hard to concentrate on forming coherent sentences when his lips continually managed to find hers again, but she eventually managed to say, "That, uh, we should really look into doing this more often, without taking year-long breaks in between."

Harry laughed. Somehow, it was the best sound in the world. "Yes," he grinned. "Yes, we should."

_Maybe,_ Ginny thought dazedly, several hours (or maybe minutes; she wasn't really keeping track of time) later as she lay, half-asleep, in his arms, _wars don't _only_ bring destruction. Sometimes, they bring something much, much better._

_New beginnings, for instance. And the typical 'love conquers all' message, of course. Wouldn't be a fairytale ending without it.

* * *

_"I thought I'd find you here."

The voice, while familiar, still made Hannah Abbot jump up, startled, and whirl around to find herself face-to-face with Neville Longbottom, who stood leaning against the doorway into the armory.

"Oh, hi, Neville," she said, hands fluttering nervously. She didn't particularly want company at the moment, especially not company that made her cheeks heat up like they were doing.

He'd had better days, she reflected ruefully as he stepped forward, because Neville no longer carried his war bravado. Firelight made his scars glow blood-red, highlighting them into prominence on his delibrately-guarded face.

"Hello, Hannah," he said quietly, leaning on Gryffindor's sword as he walked. He favored his left side, and she just realized he had a limp, most likely from a nasty fall rather than a nasty curse. "It's breakfast time, you know. You should come eat something."

She shook her head, making her tangled, blond locks obscure her face. "I'm not hungry."

Neville muttered a few words that had her eyes widening because it was so unlike her once-shy friend to be so…colorful. "Damn it, Hannah," he sighed. "You've barely eaten in the past two weeks, and I'm not the only one who's noticed! Susan and Ernie and Jus—"

He stopped talking, eyes wide, but not soon enough. Hannah turned her head away, renewed tears stinging at her eyes. _Justin_. One of her best friends in the world, dead. Long-dead, in fact, but that didn't make the wounds from his loss hurt any less. He was _gone_. Forever, with just six short syllables that had ended his life.

Two warm arms circled her body, hugging her close. "Merlin, I'm sorry, Hannah," Neville whispered into her hair. "I didn't mean to—it just slipped, I swear—"

"It's fine, Neville," Hannah said, blushing at his close proximity and gently disentangling herself from his arms. "Don't worry about it."

He looked stricken. "I can't _not_ worry about you, Hannah. What kind of friend would I be if I just let you sit here?"

Hannah huffed. "A smart friend?" she suggested.

Neville cracked a smile. "Maybe, but not a _good_ one."

He walked closer, until they were about two inches apart. "Hannah, listen to me. We'll get through this, all right? We all will. Because we're the heroes. We've survived this far, and we'll continue surviving, in honor of everyone we lost. We'll live the lives they never got to lead. For them, for Justin, for everyone—don't give up, okay? We'll make it through the funerals and the mourning and the memories. Do you believe me?"

Looking up into his battle-worn, darkened brown eyes, Hannah nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said softly. "I do."

"Good." Something flickered in his eyes, and for one split second, she thought he might just lean down and kiss her, but he stopped at the last moment, smiling shyly at her.

"Each happy ending's a brand new beginning, no?" she murmured, pulling one of her mother's favorite quotes out of the mess of memories in her head.

Neville chuckled and hugged her warmly. "Exactly. Now, come on. There's a plate of pancakes in the Great Hall with your name on them."

* * *

He should have known she'd find him eventually. She always did. He could never hide from her for long.

"Hey," Katie greeted, entering his old bedroom at the Burrow and quietly closing the door behind her.

George looked up at her, face blank, and he could tell his lack of emotions startled her. "Leave," he said flatly. That tone of voice had gotten even his mother and Ginny to leave him alone, but there was no chance it would work on Katie. She simply folded her arms and leveled a glare at him that, under any other circumstances, would have him begging for mercy.

But then, these weren't any other circumstances.

"No," she retorted, and walked forward. "Now tell me—how many cliché speeches have you heard so far?"

He snorted. "Countless. 'He wouldn't want you to be so sad, George'. 'You have a family that loves you, remember?'. 'Don't shut everyone out, you idiot'. Everything that can be said has been. You can't possibly add anything new."

Her eyes gleamed, and right away, he knew challenging her was a bad idea.

"How about this? After I'm through talking to you, George Weasley, I'm going to go back to my apartment and cry myself to sleep because one of my best friends is _dead_ and I miss him like crazy and I don't really care what he would want for me, because I'm too busy wrapped up in my own little world to notice that everyone I love is worried sick about me."

He was on his feet in an instant. "Shut up, Katie!" he snarled, towering over her and making her step back. "You don't know—you don't understand—you haven't lost your _twin_!"

"So?" she shot back. "Does the fact that Fred wasn't my twin make my pain any less important than yours, George? They're the exact same emotions—sadness, anger, frustration. What's the difference?"

"He was my _brother_!" George said through gritted teeth. "Not yours! You can't possibly understand—"

"What it's like to lose a brother?" Katie asked softly. The haunted look in her eyes gave him pause. He racked his brains for a moment before it hit him—she _had_ lost a brother. Her younger brother and both her parents had been murdered late last year by Death Eaters. She had barely escaped with her life, and she still had the brace on her leg to prove it.

"Oh, Merlin," he breathed, eyes wide. "Katie, I'm sorry. I didn't remember—"

"I wasn't expecting you to," she mumured, walking closer, but her words didn't lessen his guilt. She half-smiled and he had to choke down a sob.

"So," he said resignedly. "How much of a jerk have I been acting like lately?"

"You haven't," she said firmly, touching his shoulder. For once, he didn't pull back. "This is perfectly natural, George. We've all lapsed into this phase at least once over the past year, not talking to anybody because we've lost someone important to us. It's hardly new, and I don't blame you for it. I've been through it, and so have Angelina and Alicia and Lee and most likely your entire family."

Katie shook her head, making her dark ponytail bounce. "War ruins us all. But nothing is forever, not even grief. I miss Fred and I miss my family, but I'm not going to waste my life crying over them. I'm going to stand tall and live like they would have wanted me to. I'm going to go out there and make my dreams come true, so that when I see them again, I'll know that I've made them proud."

Her logic was tempting, George had to admit. And as she stepped forward to hug him, he decided that he would take her advice, because it was what Fred wanted, what his friends and family wanted, and, most of all, what _he _wanted.

"Can I get one more day of crying?" he whispered in her ear.

Katie laughed. "As many as you want, as long as you promise me that you'll come back to us soon."

He tightened his hold on her. "I promise. Thanks for helping."

"No problem," she grinned up at him. "After all, friends are there through everything. Thick and thin, hell and high water, endings and new beginnings."

* * *

Silk dress, heels, jewelry, ballroom dancing underneath a brightly-lit ceiling—Lavender Brown felt like she was living a fairytale she had no business being a part of.

This was all so picturesque and perfect and _wrong,_ and she didn't belong here, not at this party with it's neon lights and exotic foods and sophisticated guests who'd probably never watched their best friend be murdered right int front of them. Maybe, once, she would have fit in here, but that time was long gone, back before she had seen the horrors of war, before she'd been scarred by a werewolf, before Parvati had died.

"Daddy, I'm not feeling so hot," she told her father under the cover of blinding lights and wild dancing. "I'm gonna go home, okay?"

"Be safe, sweetheart," Mr. Brown said absently, and returned to his conversation with another stuffy businessman.

Lavender sighed, retrieved her bubblegum-pink hoodie—it'd been a gift from Parvati, just two years ago—and pulled it on over her too-fancy, too-bright blue dress. Grabbing her purse and dumping her soda out in the trash, she walked out of the party and Apparated.

She ended up at an abandoned park near Hogsmeade, all her body parts thankfully still attached. It was late afternoon, and there were a fair few people crowding the streets, but the park was all but deserted, which suited her just fine. Finding a leafy lemon tree, she collapsed in it's shade, curling up into a ball and closing her eyes, wishing that, for once, she wouldn't have nightmares.

"Lavender?" asked a somewhat familiar voice quietly, waking her up from her not-so-deep slumber. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Her blue eyes fluttered open hazily and the figure of a wizard her own age slowly came into focus. Thick, wavy brown hair, sleek, dark blue glasses, hazel eyes, proudly wearing a scarf in Ravenclaw colors…

"Oh, hi, Terry," she said in recognition. "What are you doing here?"

Terry Boot adjusted his glasses and raised an eyebrow at her. "Um, I kind of live here, Lavender," he said, sounding amused. When her confusion no doubt showed on her face, he jerked a thumb behind him at the rows of houses that, she knew, were home to Hogsmeade shop owners and a few of the Hogwarts staff.

"My parents run the bakery, remember?" he added. "Well, I suppose you don't remember. You were always too busy flirting with Seamus."

Coming from anyone else, she would have been indignant, but Terry grinned charmingly at her, a clear indication that he was teasing, and she relaxed, realizing that she didn't have the energy to pick a fight anyway, Gryffindor recklessness be damned.

"Shut up," she muttered instead and tried to stand up, only to fall back down because both her legs had fallen asleep with her. "What time is it?"

"About five-thirty," Terry answered, kneeling besides her. "What were you doing sleeping here, Lavender? Any random Death Eater could have come by and kidnapped you."

"But they didn't," she pointed out, smiling innocently at him. "Unless you're hiding something."

He snorted. "No, lucky for you. Come on. As long as you're not drunk or anything, you need to get back home."

Lavender sighed. "I don't really feel like going back home, Terry," she murmured.

"Well, do you have any other place to go to?" he asked, sounding skeptical.

Normally, she would have told him that yes, she had a standing invitation to the Patils' house, but today, the words died in her throat. Parvati was _dead_, and her family was grieving, and there was no way she was ever stepping foot in the Patils' house again. No use plaguing herself with memories and tears and nightmares.

Terry must have noticed the tears she was blinking away, because he took her arm and gently guided her up. "Come on, Lavender," he said, his voice soft. "You can crash at my place for the night. I'm sure my parents won't mind. They've been letting my friends sleep over since…well, for a while, now."

Lavender gulped down her sobs, feeling like a silly, pathetic little girl, but she couldn't help it. "I—Terry, I miss her," she confessed, though it was hardly a surprise.

"I know," Terry murmured, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to steady her as she walked. "We all miss her, Lav, her and everyone else who died. But you know as well as I do that they wouldn't want us to stop living and just, I don't know, sleep under trees for the rest of our lives." He nudged her, grinning, surprising a giggle out of her. "You've got to live, Lavender. You don't have to go to parties every day with your parents or anything, but you need to _live_. For Parvati, and for everyone else."

He coughed, a light blush on his cheeks, as he glanced away from her, apparently embarrassed by his small speech.

Lavender smiled up at him, feeling something warm unfurl in her chest that hadn't been there since she and Seamus broke up. "Thanks, Terry," she said softly, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, no matter how very cliché that seemed.

His cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. "Um, no problem. Let's, uh, get you to my place and…well, let's start over."

Terry grinned down at her with dimples and a blush and blue glasses, and she had to laugh.

"Yes," Lavender said, closer to happiness than she had been in a while. "Let's start over."

* * *

**Important Note: This was written as part of the Reviews Lounge, Too Humble Beginnings challenge. This story, along with all the other submissions have been uploaded under the official RLt account under the title 'Storybook Beginnings'. Go read it, and don't forgot to review! A lot of amazing authors contributed to the challenge :)**

**Author's Notes: Wow, it's been a long time since I've properly explored the generation of the Golden Trio! Hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! It would have been longer, but I kinda ran out of ideas after the last scene, so I decided to stop it here and venture back into the post-war world some other time. Please and thank you in advance for reviewing!**


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